Frozen in Time
by Pepper Dine
Summary: The events from their lives as I imagine that led to the Shinsengumi finding each other: Saito's mysterious past, Souji's childhood, and how Hijikata becomes the great leader he is in history.
1. Chapter 1: Fish out of Water

**Comment: Having scrapped info on the Shinsengumi members, I find myself wondering what their lives must really have been like. There is a lot we don't know about their personal lives, histroically speaking, and this is what intrigues me the most, particularly in the case of Hajime Saito. For all we know, it might not even be his real name. He wore many masks and virtually nothing is known about his life previous and even after the Shinsengumi. **

**This is a vague attempt to string together a series of events and construct my image of the members and how they came to be. It does not follow events in the anime and so reiatsu and other fantastical elements are not involved. Think of this as sort of a historical/slice-of-life story. **

**Fish out of Water**

It was a very dreary, stormy day. The village of Kamakura had been under rain for several days. Rice paddies, rivers, and ponds overflowed with water and now the water rose under the houses. Saito Takaya heaved a deep sigh as he stood surveying the wetlands from his porch. What a gloomy day! He hadn't seen a soul wandering outside in three days!

"When will this rain let up?" he muttered to his wife who was pouring them tea in their small, cozy room.

He took a seat next to her on their spread out futon and she silently handed him the tea.

"The crops are suffering. How does Amida expect to compensate for our loss?"

"Amida did not make it rain," Kyoko replied, offended that her husband should blame the peaceful god. "We cannot control nature-"

"Just as we cannot our fates," Takaya grumbled. "Kyoko, when will you give up this pointless philosophy? There is great change at hand. Can you not sense it?"

"If you mean that we are in capable hands then there is no reason to worry, is there? Our stores are full because you had the wise idea to harvest early. Why should we be troubled by another's loss?"

Takaya only shook his head and sipped the tea in silence. He knew his wife could not be expected to understand. Although he was not a man of the world, coming from the lower agrarian class, he did keep himself updated on what went on in the great cities. Merchants and passerby stopping on their way through their village were always eager to share any news from Edo, Kyoto, Nagoya, etc; in exchange for a bowl of rice or a night's stay.

Kyoko did not approve of her husband's childish curiosity. She considerd it "meddling", but she was a considerate woman and understood the importance of education. Her ways were gentle, but morally strict and she had a wonderful talent when it came to punishing her children for misbehaving. Kyoko knew precisely well how to run the small household, making do with what little they had with such remarkable efficiency that even her husband found it hard put to undermine his appreciation.

As the two sat listening to the pitter patter of the rain raindrops on the sloping roof, new voices reached their ears. Takaya was atonce on his feet.

"There's a commotion outside," he reported to his wife who took as much interest in it as she would in a fly.

A small group had gathered on the bank of the river.

"I'm going to have a look," Takaya said, grabbing his round field hat and stepping into the straw sandals.

Kyoko did not try to stop him for experience had taught her otherwise. She calmy gathered the tea things and wondered what her children were up to.

* * *

As Takaya grew closer to the river's edge, he recognized his neighbors among the large group and by the raised voices, he knew there was a dispute.

"...like a fish out of the water!" Reiko, the old village widow was saying. "You don't expect to breed extra fish! It's an ill omen-"

"Oh come now!" Keitaro, the youngest farmer among them grumbled. "He's helpless-"

"An omen! Look at the weather! It's a sign from Amida-don't you see? Something like that washing up. It's obviously cursed!"

There was no refute at this. The group stood silently. Rain poured on their hats and into their eyes. No one looked up when Takaya entered the scene. They simply parted to let him into the circle.

When Takaya's eyes fell on the cause of the dispute, his jaw dropped.

"I-It's a boy!" he stuttered, unable to look away from the mud covered heap at their feet.

"He washed up on the bank in the storm," his neighbor supplied.

"There were tsunami winds up north. I think the boy somehow escaped the path of carnage," another put in.

"So why is he lying here?" Takaya asked, looking at the villagers. "What's the argument about?"

When no one replied, Reiko answered, "We can't take him in Takaya. He's just another mouth to feed and who knows what his past is? If a master takes in every stray dog, he's bound to become homeless at some point."

"But he's just a boy! A child!"

Reiko shook her head. "He's cursed."

"So you'll let him die?"

The villagers hung their heads, some in guilt.

"I can't believe this!" Takaya cried. "If this were your child, would you throw him out like a piece of fish? Wouldn't you want someone to take care of him-?"

"It's alright for you to say so," Amasawa cut in. "You don't have anything to worry about. We have mouths to feed Saito and no cushion to fall back on unlike you."

Takaya's jaw clenched. "If you mean my brother, we've severed ties long ago."

"But you still have his connection. If something should befall you, you'll get out of the scrape alright, but not the rest of us," another protested. "We can't fight the shogunate, Saito. We're only farmers."

"If you feel for this kid," they shouted, "instead of condemning us, why don't you take him in?"

Takaya looked at the messy bundle at his feet and sighed. To everyone's suprise, he leaned down and scooped the unconcious child in his arms. As the crowd parted to let him through, he walked away without a word or backward glance.

* * *

Without bothering to remove his sandals or move the futon out of the way, Takaya layed the boy down on the tatami floor and called to his wife. Kyoko hurried in at his shouts, wondering if her husband had gone mad. Upon seeing the dirty boy sprawled on her clean floor, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"I found him," Takaya said. "washed up by the river. Will you get him cleaned up?"

Kyoko blinked. "What is that?" she cried, startling her husband. "Takaya, get him off my floor! What do you think you're doing bringing in washed up boys? He's not our child!"

"Kyoko!" and Takaya was in front of her, holding her shoulders, shaking her. "He's helpless! Even if he's not our child we have to help him!"

And bit by bit, Takaya explained what had happened. As she listened, Kyoko calmed down and when all was told, there were tears in her eyes. She dropped by the child and dabbed his muddy face with her handkerchief.

"Takaya," her hand froze, "he's bleeding."

Takaya saw the dark blood dripping down his neck from a gash on the side of his forehead.

"Get me bowl of warm water and cloth," Kyoko said, rolling up her sleeves, and Takaya promptly brought her what she wanted. When it came to matters of health, she was the expert.

Kyoko stripped the boy off his wet, torn clothes and between them, they cleaned him as best they could. Kyoko tended the cut, which was not too deep, and bandaged the wound before checking him for other injuries. He had numerous little scratches and bruises all over his body, but the dark bruises on his back worried her the most. They were large and molted.

"What has this child been through?" she mumbled, running her fingers over the broken skin. She could not wrap them, only hope for the swelling to quell.

Takaya brought a pair of his 1o year old son's clothes and held the boy while Kyoko dressed him. He was awfuly thin and the clothes slipped easily off his shoulders. Slipping his hands around the boy's frail body, Takaya carried him to their futon and laid him down while Kyoko piled on the blankets.

Then, they waited.

* * *

Two hours flew by and the child did not stir. Kyoko left to tend to her own kids while Takaya sat with his back to the door. It was still raining, but he had closed the door to keep out the cold drafts.

As he gazed at the boy, his thoughts wandered.

_He is beautiful._

He noted the pale, soft skin and silken dark locks. The boy had a delicate face, but a sinewy lean build, like a slim bamboo shoot. What bothered Takaya was the boy's thin, almost emaciated limbs. It was as though he had been starved. Even so, the boy's cheeks were flushed and breathing a little harsh.

Worried, Takaya brushed the damp locks from the base of his neck and pressed a cool palm. He was burning. As he had seen Kyoko do, he took a soft cloth and dipping it in the bowl of rose water, gently dabbed the boy's seething skin.

The water slowly brought the fever down and the boy stirred in time. The house was deafeningly quiete. Having sent the kids to bed, Kyoko was dozing next to her husband when the child's movement brougt her to attention. As he stirred, both held their breaths and watched as two astonishing blue eyes settled on them, a little dazed. His rosy lips parted and he formed soundless words. Too tired to speak or move, he only stared as panic seeped into his eyes.

Noting the fear in the almost violet orbs, Takaya leaned over the boy and spoke in gentle tones, "You're safe now son. There's no need to be scared."

"Who...?" he croaked in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm Saito Takaya and this is my wife Kyoko."

Kyoko smiled. "What's you're name child?" she asked in her motherly voice.

The boy only stared and blinked, as though wondering if this were all a dream. Confusion still swam in his eyes and, hoping to relieve it, Takaya briefly told him what had come to pass. As he spoke, the boy closed his eyes and wrinkled his brow, as though in pain.

"We found you by the bank, but I wonder how you managed to escape the storm?" Takaya asked.

"I wasn't...caught in the storm," he rasped, trying to push himself up. Takaya immediately clasped the boy's shaking limbs and propped him against the pillows Kyoko arranged. "I...can't stay here. I have to g-go-"

"You're not going anywhere, son. You're hurt and feverish. All you need is rest."

But the boy shook his head, wincing when the movement disturbed his wound. "No, I'll leave tomorow. Th-thank you for your hsopitality but...I can't stay."

"Why not?" Kyoko cut in. "Is there someone waiting for you? Do you have to be anywhere?"

"No...I have...no one." It was a simple sentence, spoken with no regret, but then, why did it hurt her so much?

"What's you're name?" she asked.

The boy shrugged, as though saying, what did it matter?

"Where are you from son?" Takaya tried.

"Edo," he mumbled.

"Is that where you want to go?"

"No!" and his sudden cry startled them. "I-no, not there, " he whispered. "N-not anywhere. I-" he gulpled, "I just have to leave."

Kyoko wanted to ask why he was so intent on brushing them away, but she knew the boy wouldn't say. He was insecure, scared, and had abviously led a hard life. What he needed was kindness and a little trust. Perhaps then he would open up.

"Well, you must be hungry," she said cheerfully, "How about I bring you a big bowl of miso and then you take a nap? You can leave when you're better, but till then you have to let us take care of you, alright?" And without waiting for an answer, Kyoko left the room.

"She's taken by you," Takaya chuckled. "Kyoko has a big heart."

And when he looked at the boy, he was startled to see tears in his eyes. He looked no more than 7 or 8 and his lips quivered like a frightened child's. The boy turned away, embarrased, but Takaya saw he wasn't offended.

"...me," he suddenly whispered.

"Sorry?" Takaya leaned forward as the boy turned to face him. His eyes were clear and there was no trace of the emotion he had just unveiled. His face was as composed as a mask.

"My name is Hajime," he said. "Just..Hajime."


	2. Chapter 2: The New Addition

_Hello Reader!_

_I apologize for leaving this story hanging for so long, but other projects, university, and life in general have a way of increasing writer's block. Still, I'll try to be more consistent._

**Chapter II: The New Addition**

Kondo Isami had always been a kind hearted man - kind to a fault they would later say. No one regarded him any less a warrior because of his soft heart, but some wondered why he was so attached to the new addition at the dojo. There was nothing special about the boy as far as one could see. He was quite small for his age with startling green eyes and dark hair. There was nothing pleasant about him either, although he was incredibly formal to everyone. He wasn't in the least childish and always stood aloof, a frown painted on his thin lips.

They let him stay as a servant boy. He had arrived two weeks ago with his older sister who begged the master to take him in as she couldn't afford to feed him. He had agreed only because there were always chores to be done. The boy had stayed silent through the whole exchange, staring resolutely at the ground and refusing to meet anyone's eyes. When his sister bent down to apologize and say good bye, her soft voice fell on deaf ears. He watched her go with a blank face before following his new master inside his new home.

They gave him the most menial tasks: pick the weeds, clean the floors, wash the dishes, hang the laundry, etc; He did them without complaint. In return, he was allowed a small room to stay in and two meals a day. Kondo often watched the boy work when he was sipping his afternoon tea. He never smiled and that worried the man more than anything.

No one bothered with the boy. They left him to complete his tasks and he never tried to talk to anyone, disappearing in his room as soon as his meal was given to him. He ate alone. Kondo never thought much about his aloofness, but he tried to create a more pleasant mood by smiling at him whenever they happened to pass each other.

Okita Souji however, merely frowned and looked the other way or firmly avoided his eyes and brushed on with a stiff bow. He felt no need to be happy when his world had turned upside down. He was barely ten and yet he had no home and he had become a burden for his sister, his only family. He didn't really begrudge her, but he missed her and he didn't think he could forgive her for abandoning him. He knew logically why she had to do it - he had gone for days without food after all - but his heart didn't understand. She had raised him like a mother and then she had betrayed him by abandoning him.

He didn't feel welcome in this new place and he wished he could punch the smile off Kondo Isami's face. The man didn't know what they did to him down in the kitchens - he wouldn't tell anyone of course because he couldn't. Souji couldn't admit to himself yet what was happening. The first time it happened, it was so sudden that he hadn't even screamed. It was only after the pain consumed him and he saw his own blood staining the floor that he reeled from shock.

The next time it happened, he tried to fight them off, but they were tall, strong boys and they had no trouble pinning down his thin arms and muffling his screams. Souji didn't cry after - he never did. He only wanted it to stop. He told himself he wasn't scared of going to the kitchen. He knew they were waiting for him, but after a time, he told himself he didn't care. He knew what it felt like to be starved, but he thought it was better than the humiliation he endured just to get a bite.

They didn't come looking for him when he stopped coming. He supposed they thought Souji would have to give in eventually. But they didn't know how stubborn Okita Souji could be. When the hunger consumed him, he drank water. Sometimes, he got lucky with a few uneaten morsels when it was his turn to wash dishes, but it was hard.

A few days in his strike, Souji could feel himself getting weaker. He hardly had energy to bend down to lift the heavy water bucket much less wipe the floors under the hot sun. Still, he trudged on, hardly aware of his surroundings. He was slowly making his way across the porch to his room one evening when a slight breeze momentarily swayed his conscious. He could feel himself falling. The ground swept from beneath his feet and he caught a brief view of the blood-red sky before his eyes rolled in the back of his head.

He waited for the impact...which never came.


End file.
